


Content with Silence

by perclexed



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: lewis_challenge, International Fanworks Day 2015, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perclexed/pseuds/perclexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.” <br/>― Ansel Adams</p>
<p>Part of the Roulette Challenge - 27 Red; <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9ZGKALMMuc">The Way You Look Tonight</a> - Frank Sinatra</p>
            </blockquote>





	Content with Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to wendymr for the light beta & Britpicking.

He wishes, for one exceedingly brief moment, that he had one of those awful google glass devices, so he could record the scene in front of him and play it back at leisure. Take out the contacts for one night, wear glasses with the excuse that his eyes are bothering him. It'd be plausible. But he's in a room filled with Thames Valley's best, and it's unlikely that the device would go unnoticed even with the extraordinary amount of alcohol being ingested by his colleagues at their annual Christmas party.

No, he'll simply have to commit the sight in front of him to memory without the aid of digital recording. Something to treasure, and revisit in the privacy of his own mind when the never-ending grind of their caseload can't be left at the door to his flat. When he feels like he's drowning in despair at the horrible things human beings do to one another, he'll reach for this life-saver of a memory.

Robbie is laughing, and dancing, and grinning to beat the big band.

Not with him, mind. The police force is much more open these days, but an Inspector dancing with his very male Sergeant? Bit of a stretch, even if it's in the spirit of taking the piss out of everyone involved. No, he's gliding about the dance floor with the lovely Laura Hobson.

They're both in their best threads, and probably the ones meant for the opera weekend that wasn't. The skirt of Laura's sea-green dress swirls about her calves as Lewis goes for a dip, and both participants burst into giggles as they nearly tumble to the floor. It's awkward, since Robbie is far more at home chasing a suspect through the streets of Oxford than he is in a dinner jacket on a ballroom floor. But that somehow makes the entire thing even more charming.

It's also difficult to look completely incompetent when dancing to Sinatra. Like the smooth, velvety vocal stylings of the man somehow impart a certain grace to one's feet. They're both flushed, whether from alcohol, exertion or laughter, and the sparkle of the jewels Laura's wearing complement the one in her eyes.

Most people desperately in (unrequited) love with their boss might be jealous of the woman, but he finds that impossible. Laura's a good friend, an amazing woman, and she's good for Lewis. He knows how much Robbie's mourned his wife, and anything that pulls him away from the pit of loneliness and anguish found at the bottom of a brandy bottle can only be a good thing in James' book.

No, James can't feel jealous. But he can be wistful. In a slightly different world, if they were slightly different people...if the world were the one he'd like to live in instead of the one he inhabits, well. It would be him in those arms, held tight, reaching to cradle that beloved cheek. His fingers tracing those lines around twinkling, amused blue eyes, carding through the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck.

All that and maybe even more. Smiling as he covers that beloved mouth with his own, breathless all the love he feels and trying to say it not with words but through touch. Through all the things he can't say. Dizzy with desire and anticipation and joy and the knowledge that he can reach out and have all those feelings reciprocated.

But James can't have that. Not here, not now, probably not ever, though his foolish heart won't give up the sliver of hope that he can't cut out of it no matter how hard he tries. And while normally this causes a fair amount of angst manifesting as "existential flu", he's just too content this evening to take a swim in the river of his own angst.

Because Robbie's in a dinner jacket, and his smile is so warm, his laugh so bright, that James can only stand and bask in the reflection of that light.

He finishes the last of his drink and sets the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter, collects his coat and with a slight smile on his lips, heads out into the cold, dark Oxford evening. Alone, but for once not feeling lonely.

"'Cause I love you," he murmurs along with Sinatra. "Just the way you look tonight."


End file.
